Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Something wicked this way comes?

Now here is certainly a piece that I could sink my teeth into... okay bad pun I'll admit it. However it is completely appropriate considering that such an innocuously named piece was written about a vampire. Usually when you think vampire what comes to mind? Creepy castle? Check. Run down village? Check. Superstitious and vengeful family members of the victim(s)? Check and check several times over. It's nice to see some of what has become stereotypical of the vampire novel here before us, quite a bit before they were total stereotypes, and I will gleefully admit, those stereotypes were played out without hurting my brain.

I think one of my favorite moments in the piece was the story of the General's niece and her new friend. Yes of course we all knew what was happening and knew who was involved long before they got to the end of the story but it still made me snicker at the simplicity of disguise used in the entire piece. Masks at a Masquerade, a simple rearranging of letters, and then returning to her own hidden grave. I almost felt like I was playing hide and seek with the characters at times. Even more amusing I knew who the vampire was in one of the far earlier parts of the book, for even if I had questioned it Le Fanu threw the implications right into our faces in Chapter Three. "There was a sombre piece of tapestry opposite the foot of the bed, representing Cleopatra with the asps to her bosom;" clearly pointed us in the direction of everything that was going to happen, with our main character (aka Cleopatra) clutching a prized and favored being (aka the Asp), in this case Carmilla, to her chest without the consideration of its inherently deadly nature.
Now I'm not certain if Le Fanu was attempting to offer such a thin veil for his dramatic conclusions or if he really didn't believe that people would noticed the allusions to where and how Carmilla came about together. It was in chapter one that we were informed of the lay of the land including the nearest village. "because there is, only three miles westward, that is to say in the direction of General Spielsdorf’s schloss, a ruined village, with its quaint little church, now roofless, in the aisle of which are the mouldering tombs of the proud family of Karnstein, now extinct, who once owned the equally desolate chateau which, in the thick of the forest, overlooks the silent ruins of the town." And in Chapter Four, Carmilla discloses the only three facts about herself that she can: her name, her family's ancient and noble heritage, and the direction in which her home is. Add that to the discovery of the Mircalla's (read Carmilla's) painting. Three simple things put together to tell you that something isn't right here! Don't forget of course about the hunchback in Chapter Four as well who informed us about the strange situation of Carmilla's teeth.

Now considering that I'm a fan of vampire novels I'll once again say that this was, in my opinion, a good one. I can't say great considering that the original intended audience for this piece was nothing like myself, so I'm missing several of the nuisances of the piece I'm certain. I did however notice something rather interesting from the start of the novella, although written by an Irish novelist the main character had little if anything to do with Ireland itself, and neither did the story. It's a trend I've been noticing in the pieces, although this is an Irish novel there is almost no connection to Ireland itself, except perhaps in certain mannerisms of the vampires and the way that the peasants celebrated the death of their girls. Then again... those are just the things that pop into my mind while writing.

WS

4 comments:

  1. WS,

    I found your post very interesting. You spotted some things that I think I overlooked while reading this novella. You commented on the following quote, "There was a sombre piece of tapestry opposite the foot of the bed, representing Cleopatra with the asps to her bosom;" clearly pointed us in the direction of everything that was going to happen, with our main character (aka Cleopatra) clutching a prized and favored being (aka the Asp), in this case Carmilla, to her chest without the consideration of its inherently deadly nature." I remember reading about the tapestry, but really never connected the Asp to Carmilla. I think that is a great comparison. I too enjoyed the "word play" so to speak with Carmilla's name as Mircalla and Micarlla.

    However, I have to totally disagree with you in your comments, "the main character had little if anything to do with Ireland itself, and neither did the story. It's a trend I've been noticing in the pieces, although this is an Irish novel there is almost no connection to Ireland itself". Personally, I think you aren't looking deep enough into the symbolism in the novels if you aren't seeing the connections to Ireland. In this novel as well as in "Castle Rackrent" there are some serious undertones related to the authors political views. In researching Le Fanu's background, I found that he had been a supporter of the campaign against the British indifference to the Irish Famine (i.e. Britain's lack of intervention during a time that was so critical and in the end the resources of the Irish people were literally "sucked dry" ending in their starvation and death). And in understanding this point, I think he attempted to portray this idea with the use of a vamapire, an non-human being who lives off of the "life blood" of others. Interestingly, Carmilla seemed to want her victim, Laura, to succumb to her of Laura's own accord. Carmilla seemed to almost "feel bad" or "guilty" at times when trying to "seduce" Laura. Then when Laura didn't respond as Carmilla wished, she would grow angry or try to further seduce her. I find all of these ideas quite similar to the "dance" that had gone on for years between England and Ireland.

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  2. Ooh, Celtic Dreamer, you are breakin' it down! I really appreciated both of your posts, Wicked Seraph and Celtic Dreamer. You both tied together certain pieces of the story which I had overlooked.

    Celtic Dreamer, I had just mentioned in a comment on Lucky's post that I didn't necessarily understand where the importance of Ireland came into "Carmilla," but your insights into and analysis of Carmilla as England are very interesting! Although I didn't really pick up on Carmilla ever seeming to "feel bad" or "guilty" in her seduction of Laura ... I guess I wasn't willing to give her that sort of credit. Then again, I'm not sure (if we're comparing Carmilla and Great Britain) to what degree England would have had any sort of sense of ethical obligation or conscience in her dealings with Ireland. I suppose in this sense, and at least as far as my own reading of the novel goes, Carmilla would in fact be a successfully symbolic portrait of England.

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  4. Hey Wicked Seraph,

    I loved your checklist of vampire stereotypes, thought it was hilarious! In regards to what you said about Carmilla’s, I mean excuse me, Millarca’s, I mean excuse me, Mircalla’s identity being obvious from the very beginning, I have to agree. I mean come on, did Carmilla lack that much imagination that she had to resort to anagrams to create her different aliases.

    I feel a little ashamed to say that I did not pick up on what you said about Le Fanu throwing the implications right in our faces with the quote from Chapter three in which he stated, "There was a sombre piece of tapestry opposite the foot of the bed, representing Cleopatra with the asps to her bosom." I do not know if it was just me, but that passage went right over my head. Although, if it is any consolation I did find the letter written by the General in the second chapter as a big hint as to Carmilla’s identity, seeing as he blamed his niece’s death on “The fiend who betrayed our infatuated hospitality has done it all.” (Ch. 2)

    One thing that I have to say about Le Fanu’s not so subtle attempts to reveal Carmilla’s true character is that although I know that Carmilla’s identity was blatantly obvious from the beginning, I think that we need to give Le Fanu a little more credit, especially when we take into account when this piece was written. With the times that we live in, and with our societies, in my opinion, ridiculous obsession with vampires going on right now, it is much easier for us to pick up on the signs as to Carmilla’s true identity. While back then, this being one of the first vampire novels of its time, it was not as discernable for the readers to pick up on the implications of Carmilla’s bizarre behavior.

    As far as Celtic Dreamer's comment, I have to agree with her that the similarities between Carmilla and the British are undeniable and should not go unnoticed, especially since that correlation is probably one of the main motives behind Le Fanu writing the piece.

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